I'm an Idiot
by BeaumontRulz
Summary: Memories of those wonderful times of just being together come back into my mind, after having been repressed for so many years ... sitting here, looking at his hunched figure at the bar, I suddenly feel like I could throw everything I’ve gained away just


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

A/N: this was inspired by, I guess, resurfacing feelings for someone. I've thought very long and hard about this fic, and I decided not to deprive you guys of HHr, since its not gonna be happening in cannon. Please read and review guys … you all inspire me to write!

* * *

**I'm an Idiot**

Being with someone like Hermione was one of the most satisfying things that I've ever had. And it wasn't just the sex, or knowing she felt the same way I did. There was more than that … we really were best friends. I didn't have to worry about if my girlfriend would get along with my best friend … my Hermione. I could talk to her about anything. I'd come back from classes and she'd be sitting down on the couch, reading another thick book we were supposed to read for class.

I'd walk over to her and sit down in front of her on the ground, leaning against her legs gently. She'd put the book aside and begin to rub her fingers into my shoulders, working out all the knots of tension that developed during the day, due to the stress of homework and worrying about Voldemort.

After a while I'd turn around to look at her and whisper my love to her. She smiled at me and leant down and kissed me, saying to my mouth that she loved me back. We would go up to her private Head Girl dorm and make love in her bed, moaning each others names out to the night, and then collapsing into dreamless sleep together, in a tangle of limbs and slightly damp bed sheets from our sweat.

And then, one day we just both decided we weren't the ones for each other. We would remain friends, best friends of course, but we walked different paths of love. At the end of seventh year I left everyone to fight Voldemort and I defeated him. I came back to my Hermione to find she'd found another man to hold her close.

We broke up mutually; there was no question about it. So, why was this uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach not going away? Night after night, I would toss and turn in my bed, my dreams filled with her making love to me. I would wake up almost every morning and have to change my sheets. The dreams had been so vivid.

As I look across at her from the bar, she is laughing merrily with her fiancé. She is happily sipping her drink and giggling at his jokes. And I can't help but feel jealous. It was like he had stolen my Hermione away from me. I didn't have my best friend anymore. She had replaced me with a funny, sweet and charming guy. I never thought I'd see her like that with someone else. I guess I always thought that she'd be with me once the business of Voldemort was sorted out.

It's been five years since I defeated him. Tonight is the anniversary. And I'm a blithering idiot to have let her go …

* * *

"Oh Jon," Hermione said, giggling still and smacking her fiancé's arm softly. "Honestly, you'll make me die of laughter!"

He laughed at her and said, "Well, at least you'd die happy."

"Ah dear," she said, wiping a tear out of her eye. "I'm going to get another drink sweetheart. What would you like?"

"Another beer," he said, leaning over and kissing her cheek softly. "Be quick."

Hermione slid out of the seat and walked up to the bar and placed her empty glass on it. "A beer and another one of these," she said, pointing at her glass, which had the residue of the colour of her drink in it.

"Coming up!" the barman said, beginning to mix her drink.

Looking along the bar, Hermione caught sight of Harry. She smiled and walked up to stand next to him. "Hey," she said, placing an arm on his shoulder.

"Hey," he replied, lifting his head to look into her eyes. He smiled and said, "Having a good time?"

"Yeah, not too bad, considering Ron's made a perfect arse of himself over there," she said, nodding towards one of the walls where three girls were busy grinding themselves onto him. "You?"

Harry looked back down into the depths of his glass and said, "Yeah, fine time."

Hermione frowned and sat down on the bar chair next to him and placed an arm around his neck. "Harry, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he insisted, looking up at her again.

"Harry, I've known you for almost twelve years now. And I know when something's wrong."

He smiled at her and said, "Honestly Hermione. I'll be fine. Go on; go back to Jon. He's waiting for his beer."

"Here are your drinks Miss," the barman said, on queue, and slid the drinks in front of Hermione.

"Ah yes. Thank you," she said, taking them from him. "Harry, you know if you need to talk I'm always here for you, right?"

He nodded, looking down into his glass again.

Hermione sighed and crossed the room back to Jon.

"Hey gorgeous," he greeted her grinning. "What took you so long?"

"It's Harry," she said worriedly. "He's not looking so good."

"He looks fine to me," Jon said, looking over at Harry who was stirring his drink unenthusiastically. "Is he drunk?"

"No where near it."

"Well, he looks fine."

"You don't know him like I do," Hermione said, frowning as she looked back over at him. "He's been increasingly unhappy ever since … well, ever since last month actually."

"He'll be fine Hermione," Jon insisted, placing a reassuring hand on hers.

* * *

Harry is not fine.

That's what my mind is screaming to me at the moment. I watch him keep on stirring his drink, never taking one sip of it. Something is definitely not right here.

It started around the time I told him that Jon asked me to marry him. Of course, I said yes. I mean, I love the man! He's successful, funny, sensitive, smart and cute. But Harry's face when I told him … it was like I'd denied him something he'd wanted all his life. Like a child who was told he was going to a theme park or something and really ended up going to the dentist.

As I keep on watching Harry, memories of our seventh year at Hogwarts come to mind. I remember the little fights we had, the way we made up after those fights and, of course, the absolutely wonderful sex.

I'm not going to deny this: Harry really is a devil in bed. He's a wonderful kisser. I smile as I remember his kisses … that boy really knows how to use his tongue. It's probably because of him being a Parseltongue. Anyway …

Memories of those wonderful times of just being together come back into my mind, after having been repressed for so many years. I refused to allow myself to think about it for five years. But sitting here, looking at his hunched figure at the bar, I suddenly feel like I could throw everything I've gained away just to have him back.

This is not a good feeling.

My stomach jumps as I remember the way he made me moan his name out when we were younger … my breath catches in my throat as he looks up at me, a very painful look in his eyes. I feel Jon's hand on mine and hear him ask something …

I can't hear him properly; these memories of Harry drown him out.

Harry's eyes – beautiful green eyes – keep on staring at me. I tear my eyes away from his and look at Jon. He is looking slightly worried, rubbing my hand with his.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" he asks, in a very far-off voice, or so it seems to me.

I take my hand from his and look back over to the bar. Harry is gone.

* * *

I can't take looking at her eyes anymore. I can't take seeing her with another man. I just can't take any of this.

I … I've lost hope for her …

* * *

"Harry!" Hermione called, walking out onto the street and looking around wildly for him. "Harry!" she called again.

She couldn't see him. She was too late …

"What is it Mia?" he asked from behind her, whipping off his invisibility cloak.

She gasped and jumped on him and hugged him tightly. "I didn't know where you were," she mumbled to his chest.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

"We need to talk," she said, looking up at him. "Can we go back to your place?"

"What about Jon?"

"I need to talk to you, not him. He's back in there with the boys."

Harry nodded and said, "Alright then."

They apparated to Harry's apartment and they just looked at each other for a moment.

Memories of their time together coursed through their minds, almost bringing Harry to his knees to beg her to come back to him and making Hermione slightly teary.

"We need to talk," she whispered.

Harry nodded and gestured to the couch. She smiled at him and they walked over to it and sat down.

"About what?" Harry asked, taking her hand in his – Harry's hands were much more interesting, she noticed. She could feel the scar 'I must not tell lies' on the back of his hand and shivered slightly at the thought of Umbridge making him write in his own blood.

"About … us."

Harry frowned slightly, trying to interpret what was going on behind those mesmerizing chocolate brown eyes. She looked slightly scared, but at the same time completely calm and determined.

"What about us?"

Hermione bit her lip and looked up into his eyes. "Harry … I …"

"You what?" he asked softly, lifting his other hand to brush strands of hair away from her face.

She sighed again and looked down at their hands. His hands were so much nicer to look at too, despite that scar on his right hand.

"Hermione?" he said, tilting her head up to look at him.

She took a deep breath and said, "I broke up with Jon."

Harry suppressed a smile and frowned. "But I thought he was the man of your dreams."

"So did I," she said, standing up and walking towards the fireplace. She stared into its depths and crossed her arms.

"But he's not?" Harry asked, standing up to walk behind her and place her hands on her shoulders.

"Not by a long shot," she whispered, turning around to face him.

"Then who is?" he asked, their bodies inching closer together.

"A certain someone with raven black hair, green eyes and has been my best friend for years. And will always be my best friend."

Harry slid his arms around her waist while she slid her arms around his neck. Their heads came together, foreheads resting on each other. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to say that," he whispered, smiling at her.

She smiled weakly and whispered back, "I'm sorry I ever let you go Harry."

"I'm sorry I let you go too," he muttered before doing what he'd been dreaming about doing for years.

They kissed.

It was slow and sweet and definitely worth waiting for, thought Harry. Soon, the kiss turned passionate and Hermione finally experienced Harry's flickering and vibrating tongue again. It was not until they began to kiss this way that she fully realised how much she missed it.

"Mmm Harry," she murmured, breaking the kiss and opening her eyes.

He was finally smiling again.

She smirked up at him and said, "I've missed that."

"You have no idea how much I've missed it," he said, opening his eyes and looking down at her again.

"I'm sorry for not seeing it sooner."

"No, I should have …"

Hermione placed a finger on his lips. "I don't want to talk about what we should or could have done. In fact, I don't want to talk at all," she said with a bit of a smirk as she led him towards his bedroom.

He grinned and allowed her to steer him in there.

* * *

A long time later, Harry looked up at his Hermione. She was sitting up in the bed, reading a book, frowning slightly.

"What did he say?" Harry asked softly.

Hermione put the book down and sighed. "He said he'd always expected it. I never completely enjoyed sex with him. And it's not like he knew me as well as you do."

"Knew?"

Hermione smiled weakly and reached out to cup Harry's cheek in her hand. "He said he'd go on his way. He wanted to move back to America once we were married anyway."

"Oh," Harry said, looking down at his hands.

"Hey, I'd rather be here with you," she said softly, sliding down in the bed and propped herself up on her elbow.

Harry smiled and said, "I just always want to be with you Mia."

"Good. Because I don't plan on letting you go again," she whispered, beginning to kiss him again.

He grinned to himself as he pulled her over to straddle his waist again.

Yes, he was an idiot to let her go, but having her back after such a long time was a sweet reward for his stupidity.

This was a very good way to spend the anniversary of Voldemort's death.

THE END

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A/N: What do you all think? Like I said at the top, this was inspired by some … resurfacing feelings. I'm actually pretty happy with this one-shot. Okay, well I've got to go to bed now so please review! Hugs and cookie dough to Andrew who did me a huge favour by editing, and hugs and cookie dough to the wonderful people who review! Thanks for reading!

Alex


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